


Monster

by Ickleroonilwazlib



Category: The 100
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-10
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-30 22:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5182598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ickleroonilwazlib/pseuds/Ickleroonilwazlib
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lincoln asks Octavia to chain him to the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monster

They’ve been silent for a while now.

She was there for a while in the morning, as he tossed and turned, momentarily re-gaining consciousness to vomit into a bucket next to his bed. His body was detoxing, Abby had said, and it meant a lot of unpleasantness for Lincoln. When he wasn’t vomiting, he was delirious with fever, half awake, half asleep. That had passed in the afternoon.

Octavia knows better than to think he’s asleep now—she doubts he’ll have a good rest for a long while but his eyes are closed and his breathing is steady so she lets him be. He hasn’t spoken to her since she discovered him. It shocks her momentarily to realize she hasn’t heard his voice since he returned to his village…for her sake. He’s like this because of her.

Clarke enters quietly, pulling Octavia away from her thoughts, and looks cautiously at Lincoln.

“My mom and I wanted to ask him a few questions…” she trails away, again glancing at his form before seemingly asking permission from Octavia.

Clarke looks like a ghost—pale and haunted but mostly there’s a heavy dark air around her.

“About Finn.”

His voice startles her. It’s grainy and weak, not at all like the sturdy one she remembers, and it sinks in that maybe this is the voice she’ll have to get used to from now on.

“Yes.”

Lincoln nods his consent, trying to push himself into a sitting position. Octavia quickly moves to help but as soon as she touches him, he jerks away. She pauses, half registering Clarke’s hasty departure, to stare at him.

He doesn’t look at her at all; instead he stares thoughtfully at his wrists before holding out his arms to her. His eyes finally lift to hers.

“Tie me.”

It’s a command, not a request.

“There’s no need,” Octavia responds, glad to hear her voice come out strong.

“Even so.”

His brow is furrowed again and her hand mindlessly moves to the familiar motion of rubbing the crease away but he jerks away again, looking exasperated.

“There’s no need, Lincoln,” she repeats but this time her voice weakens at his name because back at the garage she thought she could have brought him back from the depths of darkness just by calling out his name. The shot wound told otherwise.

“Octavia,” there’s no sweetness in her name, “do as I say.”

She does, making sure to touch as much of his skin


End file.
